


The Stars in His Eyes, The Madness in His Heart

by castironbaku



Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Awkward Flirting, First Kiss, Flirting, Fluff, Love Confessions, M/M, lots of kisses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-08
Updated: 2017-01-06
Packaged: 2018-08-29 20:41:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 8,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8504659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/castironbaku/pseuds/castironbaku
Summary: Everyone tells him to leave it alone, to forget it exists. To pretend that it hasn't wormed its way into his heart. Maybe, if he'd listened, he wouldn't be wrapped up in these terrifyingly amazing feelings. But he swears he's lucky that he's a terrible listener.—A collection of my sfw Yooseven requests on tumblr





	1. he beat you to the punch

**Author's Note:**

> requested by anon

“In the name of all things Buddha!” Seven yelled over the phone so loud Yoosung had to pull it away from his ear. “Run faster! The world’s going to end! The LOLOL server is going down! Mayday, mayday!”

“I’m… running…” Yoosung panted as he forced himself to keep up his sprint. “…as fast… as I… can!”

“That’s good! You better run!” Seven sounded more than just a little bit full of himself. But the joke was on him this time. For the first time ever, Yoosung had the upper hand and the advantage of—yes—surprise. He almost snickered to himself, but he was too busy panting and running. This was all part of the plan, of course. 

“I’m… here!” He skidded to a stop and bent over, trying to catch his breath. He was at the address Seven had sent via the chat room—a tall condo that looked a lot like something Jumin would live in… if he were about 10 billion bucks poorer. 

“Okay!” Seven singsonged. “Just come on up to the top floor! I’ve got my stuff set up already. We can start the counterattack the second you walk in.”

“Alright,” Yoosung said, grinning, and hung up. He looked at the bouquet of roses he’d bought on the way here. He didn’t want to push the flowers around, but he was practically jumping with excitement. He’d hidden the tickets in there. The tickets to that new cat-themed restaurant Jumin’s company had built only a few months ago. It was set to open tomorrow and Yoosung had saved up all his allowance just to get these early bird entrance tickets. 

Seven was gonna be _so_ stoked.

Then Yoosung could finally say that he’d one-upped the legendary RFA hacker boy once and for all!

He pressed the top floor button and waited, hopping on the balls of his feet, as the elevator made its way up.

The elevator doors opened and he literally _jumped_ out with nearly as much grace as an elven rogue character.

“Seven!” he said, holding out the bouquet proudly. “Sur…prise…?”

Words were lost on him. All around him were… stars. He stopped. What on earth was going…

“Yoosung!” The attack came from behind ( _How did he even get there so fast?_ ) and had Yoosung staggering forward. Seven had pounced on him, arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders. The redhead hacker nuzzled into him and Yoosung couldn’t fight the blush creeping up his neck. 

“You’re like a huge cat, you know,” he muttered.

“Me? A cat?” Seven hugged him tighter. “That’s pretty sweet! But to be honest, I wouldn’t want to be one. Elly is my baby and all, but if I were as small as her, I wouldn’t be able to hug you _real_ tight! Like this!” He squeezed Yoosung in an extremely tight (but not unwanted) embrace.

“Seven… How did you _do_ all this?” He managed to say after a few seconds of enjoying Seven’s warmth. He looked around the large, almost empty room around him. There was a blanket on the floor, a big basket, and a round little black object covered in pinpricks of light that rotated slowly on its axis. That little black ball was the source of the universe around them.

“D’you like it?” Seven mumbled into Yoosung’s nape. “Izzit nice? Did your heart skip a beat? Are you falling in love with me again?”

Yoosung huffed. “N-No!” he stammered. “That’s… I figured… That would be _my_ line.”

“Hm? Is it because you bought those tickets?”

Yoosung jumped out of his grip, making Seven pout. “You _knew_?”

Seven crossed his arms, still pouting. “Huh? Yeah, of course I knew! I’m God Seven-Oh-Seven, man! I know _everything_!”

Yoosung’s shoulders drooped. “Oh… yeah… Well, I guess you would’ve known… Of course…” Suddenly he felt way too embarrassed and depressed to look even look at his boyfriend’s face. 

“Yoosung. C’mon. Up you get.” He took Yoosung by the shoulders and straightened him up. He was grinning and, oh oh _God_ , the stars were in his eyes, even though he had his glasses on, and he was just… Yoosung’s cheeks flared up and he glanced away from Seven, holding up the bouquet like a wall between them.

“You got me flowers,” Seven said, taking the roses. He put a hand on Yoosung’s cheek and rested his thumb on Yoosung’s quivering lip. “You’re adorable, y’know that?” He guided Yoosung’s chin up smoothly and placed a kiss on his nose. “Super cute.” A kiss between his eyebrows. “Too sweet.” A kiss on his cheek. “Precious.” A feathery light kiss on his lips. He wrapped his arms around Yoosung again and hugged him tight. “A little angel, just for me!”

Yoosung blushed. “Stop making fun… I’m not…cute…”

“Oh, yes, you are!” Seven rubbed his forehead against Yoosung’s, the tips of their noses touching. “You’re the absolute cutest, the adorablest! I wasn’t blind when I asked you out two years ago, and I definitely haven’t gone blind since then.” He smiled. “In fact, I think my vision’s gotten _so_ good, it’s like all I can see is you, in HD!”

“Huh…” Yoosung laughed softly, reaching up and pushing Seven’s glasses up into his mop of red hair sprinkled with stars. “Guess you won’t need these then.”

“Wha—I do—”

Yoosung raised his chin up and let his lips meet Seven’s. They stayed that way for a long moment, savouring each other’s taste, revelling in each other’s warmth. Seven’s hands had dropped to Yoosung’s waist. When they broke the kiss, Yoosung giggled. Seven was blushing redder than he was.

“My win?” Yoosung asked.

Seven sighed but smiled before dipping his head down. “Your win,” he breathed through another kiss.


	2. living with you = living in heaven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> requested by anon

“Okay, so next we cut up the vegetables.”

“Roger that, Captain Yoosung!”

“I still think this is a bad idea,” Yoosung said warningly.

“Objection, Your Honour!” Seven said, grinning as he wielded the kitchen knife. It made Yoosung nervous, but they were just making curry. Nothing could go wrong, right?

Except they couldn’t really focus on making dinner. Seven kept nudging him and making faces and Yoosung kept laughing and laughing. The potatoes came out pretty bad. The carrots were no better off. Seven revealed himself to have some mean potato carving skills—there were already five crudely made car-shaped potatoes on the counter.

“Is it time for the beef, Cap’n?”

“Yes, sir!” Yoosung could barely keep a straight face whenever he tried to ride on Seven’s jokes like this. He bit his bottom lip and shook his head, trying not to laugh. 

“Oh, Cap’n, there seems to be a problem.”

Yoosung looked up. “What seems… to be… the problem, cadet?” he said between his laughs.

Seven placed his hands on Yoosung’s cheeks. “You’re too cute to be a chef, Cap’n. No warmongering in the kitchen for you.”

Yoosung blushed. “What am I supposed to say to that?”

“You’re just supposed to say ‘yes, sir, I would like that kiss, sir.’”

“You didn’t mention a kiss.”

“I did now.” Seven smiled mischievously, like he’d planned this all along. Likely he did, but Yoosung was already long used to these things. They’d been living together for a month already, after all. “So, Cap’n, would you like that kiss?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Glad to hear it.”

Seven was gentle whenever he kissed Yoosung. It was like he was scared he would break him if he pushed it. So Yoosung always, always had to guide him. Seven liked it especially when Yoosung wrapped his arms around his neck and pulled at his hair a little. It encouraged him.

Seven pulled away slightly, murmuring, “Alley- _oop_!” as he took Yoosung by the waist and lifted him up onto the counter. Yoosung giggled into their kiss and Seven’s hands started wandering.

They’d been together for who knows how long ( _three years, four months, nineteen days, and thirteen hours, but, y’know, who’s counting?_ ) and kissing, well, it was old news and new news at the same time, all the time, every time. While Seven knew exactly how much Yoosung liked it when he nibbled at his lip, every tiny gasp and whine he got still made him all the more eager to jump right into the thick of things. Yoosung knew all of that, but right now…

“We’re…” he breathed, “trying to make… dinner…”

Seven let his last kiss linger. His face was almost as red as his hair when he pulled away, making Yoosung bite back a laugh ( _he’s like a redhead tomato!_ ). Thankfully, Seven didn’t seem to notice. “Sorry,” he said. “Got a little carried away there now.” He laughed nervously.

Yoosung leaned forward till they were close enough that their noses touched. ( _Seven loves eskimo kisses…_ ) “We can continue after dinner, okay?”

“Really?”

“Really.”

Seven nuzzled into the crook of Yoosung’s neck. “Really, really?”

“Really, really.”

“So I’m having you for dessert then?”

Yoosung flushed and pinched Seven’s cheek hard. 

“Owowowow, yes, Cap’n, I’ll take it easy on the dirty jokes, yessiree, I’ll be a good boy.”

Yoosung nodded in approval. “Now get me down.” He held out his arms.

“Of course, Your Highness.” Seven lifted him up and swung him around a little. Yoosung yelped and had to put both hands on Seven’s shoulders to keep his balance.

“So I’m a prince now?” Yoosung asked, just a little exasperated.

“Captain of my ship, prince of my heart, light of my life, you name it, that’s you.” Seven beamed. “You’re everything to me.”

Yoosung felt like he was going to cry. He rested his forehead against Seven’s. “Same here.”

Seven laughed. “So what say you to some dinner-making jams?”

“ _Don’t_ play memes please,” Yoosung groaned.

Seven left a swift kiss on his nose. “Sorry, babe,” he said cheerily, moving away to set up their playlist. “That’s the only promise I can’t keep.”


	3. he's drowning but you can't save him

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> requested by anon

 

He still has nightmares, until now. They reach deep, deep into the dark recesses of his mind that no one, not even Saeran— _Saeran_ —had ever touched upon before. He still feels his shirt plastered against his body, drenched with his tears, the rain, and the blood. _Oh_ , the blood. It was everywhere, on his face, on his hands, his shoes, his hair, his skin, his eyes, his tongue, his throat, his lungs. He drowns in it. Every night, he drowns. Every time he closes his eyes, he’s plunged into red-tinged blackness that unravels and shatters his psyche until he can’t, he can’t do it anymore. He can’t live like this anymore, he can’t go on, with blood on his hands. He can’t—

“Seven,” Yoosung says gently, nudging him awake. 

Saeyoung’s eyes fly open and when he sees that head of blond hair, he wants to run straight out of the room. He wants to flee somewhere, curl up, cry. Hide his tears in shame because he doesn’t even want Yoosung to see him cry. Because then Yoosung’ll cry. He hates that. He’s scared of that.

“Good morning,” says Saeyoung, smiling. He hopes his pain doesn’t fracture the smile. He wants it to be genuine. He wants Yoosung to believe that it’s genuine.

“It’s 4PM, actually,” Yoosung laughs, “but that’s okay.”

“Consider me duped.”

“By what? Your body clock?”

“I was going for a more existentialist sort of thing but yeah, that sums it up nicely.” Saeyoung rubs his hands. It isn’t that cold, but every time he sees those bandages on Yoosung’s face, he—He can’t really stop his fingers from trembling. He starts to wander his way into a conversation that Yoosung gladly participates in. Saeyoung doesn’t really know what they’re talking about. He lets his 707 persona take over the driver’s seat. It  hardly lets him rest easy, but at least… At least Yoosung doesn’t have to know about this. About the guilt carved so deeply inside of him that he feels his own existence threatening to splinter and completely, utterly collapse. Because it’s so heavy. The guilt is too heavy to bear.

He wishes he had never agreed to take Yoosung along. He wishes he had been more forceful.

He wishes that he hadn’t been too afraid to face Saeran alone.

He wishes that he hadn’t been so weak.

If he had been… stronger. If he had been stronger, nothing would’ve happened to Yoosung. If it ever did have to happen, he, Saeyoung, should’ve been the one to bear it. The sins of his past were not Yoosung’s to carry. If only—

 _If only I could’ve protected the person I love more than almost anything else_. 

“And you should’ve _seen_ the look on his face when he opened the letter and it was just a dozen photos of Elly’s face I Photoshopped on Longcat,” Seven cackles. (Saeyoung cringes.) He grins conspiratorially. (He grimaces, tries not to break down.) “Priceless.” (He can’t care less.)

Yoosung is trying to fight back his laughter, but he’s as transparent as anything. Something Saeyoung treasures more than nearly everything he’s ever known. “You shouldn’t trigger Zen like that,” he tries to chide Seven, but it’s not really working. “He’ll get you back, you know.”

“Oh, and I look forward to that day,” Seven says with a wink. 

A nurse approaches them and Saeyoung knows his time is up for the day. He gets up and stretches his numb limbs. He’s been here all day, almost every day, even though he tells himself not to. Even though most of the time, he’s lingering a little ways away from the door, watching as the love of Yoosung’s life enters with a nervous gait, a worried smile, and cherry blush dusting her cheeks. Saeyoung waits in the shadows, hands thrust deep in his pockets, drowning in Yoosung’s blood, Saeran’s hands clawing him ever downward, until the girl comes back out with a small sigh of relief and leaves happier than she went in.

That’s when Seven drops by, jolly as ever, to make a flimsy attempt at brightening up Yoosung’s dreary hospital days when in fact, the only one who _really_ makes him happy has already left for the day.

 _But that’s alright_ , Seven tells Saeyoung. _Everything’s still functioning. Status: normal. You just dream more than you ought._

Saeyoung tries and tries and tries to nod to that. To believe that everything’s okay, and that the pain from the ever-growing wound in his heart will go away. But he knows it’s a lie. He’s trudging through a world of black lies and blood and the footsteps he makes cause the shadows to recede slightly, like footprints in the sand. But a blink later and they’re gone in the darkness again. 

He’s outside and he sees _her_. The darkness inside of him wretches at the sight of her longingly staring up where Yoosung’s window is. But he walks on. He greets her warmly and they talk about Yoosung in quiet but optimistic tones like the gentlest snowfall. 

And as they walk, the snow piles up and up and up and Saeyoung knows that this is how he loves Yoosung, how he will always love him. With pain. With regret. With cold ice. With sticky pools of blood and lies.

And that’s why Yoosung will never know. Should never know.

Because the sun should never, ever fall into the dark.

Ever.


	4. he rigged it

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> requested by @fangirl323

When Yoosung thought about it carefully, it all started with Honey Buddha chips. With Seven, everything started with the stuff. From the mundane gift-wrapped care packages filled with chips to the casual “feed-me-some-Buddha” situations, everything was starting to look like Seven was, maybe, kind of―just a little bit―flirting with him. For weeks, even _months_ , Yoosung thought it was all part of some long, elaborate prank but then one night, the car broke down.

Seven was appropriately freaking out and making way too big of a fuss over just one of his many cars. Yoosung might have laughed if the situation didn't feel so scary. There they were, after all, in the middle of nowhere, in a car that wasn't starting up and with phones that refused to find a single bar of signal.

“Oh, my baby,” Seven wailed as he examined whatever lay beneath the hood (Yoosung didn't know much about cars; he stayed in the passenger seat, worrying his head off). “My poor, poor baby. Speak to me. Please. I need to know you're okay…”

“Uh, Seven?” Yoosung said, opening the door on his side. “I'm not sure talking to it is going to make it start working…”

Seven’s eyebrows shot skyward. “Yoosung!” he said, aghast. “Never. Ever. Doubt the power! Of! A! Parent’s! Love!” With every word, he’d taken a step toward Yoosung, who’d gotten out of the car.

“Hey, how are we going to get home?” he asked the self-proclaimed, self-proven boy genius. 

“I,” proclaimed Seven, hand on his chest, “have no idea.”

Yoosung balked. “What?”

“Yup. No idea. Zilch. Nada. I’m fresh out of IQ. Know where I can get some?” Seven grinned. “Oh! I know just the thing.”

“Seven, Honey Buddha and PhD Pepper are not―”

But Seven was already diving headfirst into the boxes they had in the backseat. Yoosung had no clue why he felt like he could laugh in the face of an emergency like this, but he did anyway. Nothing boisterous. Just a quiet little giggle to himself. Which made him blush. Why was he giggling like a lovesick school girl? He hadn’t felt this kind of thing since… well, ever. Not even his LOLOL wife had ever made him feel this giddy. And she was an _elf_. Everybody knows how tough it is to romance an elf.

Anyway.

Seven finally clambered out of the back with armfuls of Honey Buddha and PhD Pepper. He pranced over to Yoosung and asked him if he could close the hood of the car. Yoosung did and Seven winked approvingly, making his stomach flip inside.

“Sit up top with your Hacker Extraordinaire,” said Seven as he got onto the hood and made himself comfortable against the windshield. “C’mon. It’ll warm you up, I promise.”

“O-Okay.”

When they were sitting next to each other with only a pile of chips and two cans of soda between them, Yoosung realised how perfect their view of the night sky was. Sure, there were trees around with a canopy overhead but the branches framed the starlit sky and made it look picture-perfect. Almost even a little romantic.

Yoosung’s cheeks were on fire. He grabbed a can of PhD Pepper and opened it. 

“Neat, huh?” Seven said, taking a bag of chips. “What’re the odds that we would get stuck with this hanging over us?”

“It’s pretty amazing,” Yoosung agreed, glad for a reason to stop thinking “romantic this, romantic that.” “I remember Rika taking me out to stargaze a lot.” He smiled sadly. “Those were fun nights.”

“She really did know how to make you happy.”

“Yeah. She was crazy good at that.”

“Wish I were just as good,” Seven mumbled, making Yoosung whip his head around to look at him.

“What did you say?”

“Oh, nothing. Hey, don’t you think you can see Elly’s face up there?” 

Yoosung didn’t want to let that slide. Part of him knew that he might be cruising for a bruising, but he just… He couldn’t think of letting himself pretend that he hadn’t known. “Seven—”

“Saeyoung.” The boy genius, Hacker Extraordinaire, was smiling but he wasn’t looking at Yoosung. Maybe it was Yoosung’s imagination, maybe it was just the dim starlight, but there was blush on those cheeks. Then Seven turned to him. “Call me Saeyoung.”

“Saeyoung,” Yoosung said almost immediately, like he’d been waiting to all along.

Seven’s lips quirked and he burst out laughing. “Oh… Oh my God…” he said. “You’re so _cute_.”

Yoosung blushed and punched him in the shoulder, laughing nervously. “And you’re being embarrassing.”

“Sorry.” He wasn’t sorry. But that didn’t matter right now because they weren’t laughing anymore and there was some serious eye contact happening suddenly and Yoosung’s breath caught in his throat. Seven—Saeyoung wasn’t smiling. But there was a smile in his eyes. Like a glint. Like starlight caught in his them. No, like sunlight even. But how was that possible? It was the dead of night. How was he looking straight into the sun right now? How was it that, even in the cold, cold autumn air, he felt warmer than ever?

Saeyoung pulled away and he looked like he’d won the lottery. “Finally!” he yelled at the sky, throwing up his arms. “Finally, finally, finally!”

Yoosung was still coming to terms with the fact that he’d just had his first kiss when Saeyoung swooped in and took his second one.

This time, Yoosung broke it first. “Se—Saeyoung! Um, can you please explain why…?” 

“Why I just smooched you?” Saeyoung smiled, looking so gosh darn happy that Yoosung felt his heart melt. 

“Yeah.”

“We-e-e-ell, it might have something to do with how impossible it is to not kiss you when you look at me like you did. Also, it might have something to do with how much I might actually be in love with you.”

It was too much for Yoosung’s heart to compute. Or was that his brain’s job? Ugh, he didn’t know. He was too busy trying not to faint. “Love me?”

“Yup!” Saeyoung chirped. Then he turned solemn. A 180 degree change in direction that only he was capable of. “You remember what I did… _tried_ to do last year.”

Yoosung gulped. He did. Flashes of it still remained in his mind, echoes in his worst nightmares. Blood and screaming and paralysing fear and desperation. Just… just terrible things.

“But you,” Saeyoung said, his warm smile returning. “You _saved_ me.”

“No, I didn’t,” Yoosung protested. “It was—”

“ _You_ saved me,” Saeyoung repeated. “You weren’t the one who stopped me then, but you—only you—gave me reason not to do that again.”

Yoosung told himself fiercely that he wasn’t going to cry. He wasn’t, he wasn’t, he wasn’t. “Saeyoung,” he sobbed. “I didn’t want to lose you. It was terrifying. And your skin was so cold…”

“Touch me,” Saeyoung said, holding out his hand. When Yoosung hesitated, he let his hand rest on Yoosung’s. “Feel that? Warm. Pulsing.”

“Alive,” whispered Yoosung, tears falling nonstop from his eyes. Why couldn’t he stop? He was okay just ten minutes ago. “You’re alive. With me… Right now.”

“I am. I’m alive because of you. I’m here, with you, because you made me want to get up every day.” Saeyoung grinned. “That’s not something just anybody can do.” He took Yoosung’s hand. “So what do you say? Will you stay with me?”

Yoosung wiped his tears away, even though they kept coming. “Mm hm,” he sniffled, nodding. He couldn’t speak. 

Saeyoung sighed a little. There was a long pause. A sweet one. Then he said, “Zen and Jumin owe me a hundred bucks each.”

“Huh?” Yoosung said. “Why?”

“Because they told me none of this would work.”

His eyes widened. “You planned this _whole thing?_ ”

“Yup.”

“Getting the LOLOL patch I needed?”

“Yup.”

“Mary Vanderwood making actual dinner?”

“It was _really_ hard, but yup.”

“The car breaking down?”

“Yup.”

“The stargazing?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Kissing?”

“It was the goal and it was achieved.”

Yoosung pursed his lips. “I hate you.”

“I love you, too,” Saeyoung said happily. “So do you still wanna go home, or do you wanna go back with me?”

Yoosung couldn’t look at him. His cheeks burned. “I said I was going to stay with you,” he said. “So…”

Suddenly Saeyoung was hugging him so hard he could barely breathe. Mr. Seven-Oh-Seven, prank master, tech genius, secret agent, was holding him like he was going to disappear any second. He was shaking. Maybe even crying.  

It was a moment that didn’t need words. Yoosung buried his face in Saeyoung’s hair and held on tight. And he knew full well that he would never want to let go.


	5. something you need to know

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> requested by @strawberrieslikerory

 

Yoosung thought he was going to go insane. He’d been trapped— _staying_ at Seven’s place for more or less thirty six hours straight and he felt like he was going to lose his mind. His butt ached from being sat on for hours on end and his eyes were burning. It was true that he loved being able to play LOLOL nonstop for hours without anyone telling him otherwise, but he liked doing that _and_ going outside. And talking to people, not getting _ignored by them the whole damn time_.

“I can feel your death glare from a mile away,” said Seven loudly. 

Yoosung pursed his lips and pulled his headset down to his neck. “You know, we could _go outside_ , right?”

“Not with those sneaky bastards out to get you, nope.”

He sighed. Okay, so maybe it was his fault that a bunch of jerks online were pissed off. But how was he supposed to know that they were hackers, too? That was totally out of left field. Lucky that they’d messed up some code or whatever and Yoosung had noticed his server acting all weird. Seven had, of course, been able to trace the problem, but cracking down on the enemy was going to take longer than he’d originally thought. And that all led back to the current situation: Yoosung was stuck in Seven’s house like some sort of hostage but not.

Yoosung made a disgruntled noise and stood up, stretching. He started rummaging through the stacks of books, clothes, Honey Buddha Chips, and Dr. Pepper strewn around the floor.

“Hey, what do you think you’re doing over there?” Seven called from where he sat in front of five computer screens crammed full with lines of code. “Are you messing up my stuff?”

 _Oh, so_ now _he talks to me._ “They’re already pretty messed up as it is,” replied Yoosung. “Where’s your landline? I want some chicken.”

“You can grab some leftovers in the fridge.”

“Those expired three months ago, Seven.”

“Really? I could’ve sworn I’d only ordered those last week.”

“Seven…”

“Yeah, yeah, I know, I have to live like a decent human being, blah blah blah—”

“No, Seven, _there’s a rat in your kitchen._ ”

“ _What?!_ ” Seven jumped to his feet, his headset falling with a loud clatter on the floor. “Oh my god, Yoosung, get the alcohol! The—The insect repellant!”

He scrambled into the kitchen, colliding headfirst with Yoosung’s chest. His glasses jabbed into the bridge of his nose and he staggered backward, grunting in pain.

“Seven.”

“Yoosung, the rat.” Seven straightened, pushing his glasses up into his hair and rubbing his nose. “Is it still there?”

Yoosung bit his lip. It was now or never. “There isn’t any rat.”

Seven raised his eyebrows. “Huh?”

“Five minutes.” Yoosung raised his hand. “Just give me five minutes.”

“Uh. Okay.”

 _Alright, Yoosung. Deep breaths. One, two, three, one, two, three. In, out. In, out._ He jogged in place a little, turning in a circle maybe once or twice. He raised his arms, stretched. Jumped on one foot to the other. Thirty six hours in the same room as your crush was punishing. Him plaintively ignoring you was all the more punishing. Honestly, Yoosung just wanted to get it done and over with.

“It’s been five minutes,” Seven pointed out.

Yoosung whirled around. _Crap_ , he thought. “Um—Uh—There was never any rat—”

Seven looked dead serious, but he also looked like he was holding back a shit-eating grin. “Yeah, I know.”

“I—I was joking yesterday—when I said I wanted to leave.”

“I know.”

“I do think you should start living like a decent human being and taking care of yourself.”

Seven snorted. “Yeah.”

“Your jacket is tacky.”

He cocked an eyebrow. “But you’ve always wanted one like it, right?”

“How did yo—Never mind.”

Seven laughed. “Go on.”

“I—uh—I—” Yoosung steeled his nerves. “I… I—”

“J, K, L, M, N, O, P?” Seven suggested.

Yoosung stared at him.

Seven shot him an expectant look. “Q, R, S, T, U, V?”

Yoosung sighed. “W, X, Y, Z,” he finished. He met Seven’s gaze and for a second they simply stared at each other, in absolute awe of what had just happened. Then they burst into giggle fits that had Seven slapping the kitchen counter and sinking to the floor.

Yoosung laughed and laughed until he didn’t have any oxygen left in him. “I think…” he wheezed. “I’m in love with you.”

Seven was still chuckling. “Yeah. I know.”

Of course he knew. Yoosung threw his hands in the air. “Alright, I’ve done it. And I give up now.”

“Why give up now?” Seven leaned over to him, unsettlingly close. He smiled a ferociously mischievous smile. “That’s not very pro-gamer of you.”

Yoosung blushed and swatted his hand away. “T—This isn’t a game.” He tried and failed to sound very threatening.

Seven smiled and stood up. “Let me get that landline. We’re having a chicken feast tonight.” He glanced at Yoosung over his shoulder. “Our very first dinner date?”

And Yoosung might or might not have fainted right then and there.


	6. rainy days aren't so bad when i'm going home with you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> requested by @yomo-fucker

The rain started a few minutes into the bus ride home. Saeyoung settled back into his seat— _never mind how uncomfortable it really is_ —and let out a sigh of content. It felt good to be going home. The trip to Seoul had been _way_ too much fun (and _way_ too expensive) and he was now just getting used to the idea that he didn’t have to walk anymore, for at least six hours… which wasn’t exactly _good_ , but well… It was cheaper than the train! 

Raindrops pelted the window. The air suddenly felt colder. Saeyoung shivered slightly. The cold. It brought with it memories that he didn’t really want to think about right now.

“Cold?”

Heat slipped around his fingers in the form of a hand. Yoosung’s. 

The little gamer geek was snuggling into him and _damn_ this kid knew how to get to Saeyoung. He wanted to take Yoosung by the chin and kiss him so badly… but now probably wasn’t the right time. Yoosung looked just as, if not more, tired than he felt. So he contented himself with ruffling his boyfriend’s hair and leaning back to look out the window.

The rain was pouring in buckets now. Water slid down the glass in constantly flowing rivulets like tears. Saeyoung smirked. _Oh my god,_ he thought to himself, _are you_ really _gonna think about that now?_ But that was thing about clinical depression, actually. You didn’t exactly have control over when the little attacks came or went. You never really knew when you would feel like collapsing inward, shrinking into yourself, into a singularity of absolute pressure and gravity. Like your brain was trying to take the entirety of existence into itself, to tuck itself away into, to hide, to turn into a black hole, to vanish entirely and yet remain, unable to destroy itself no matter how much it wanted to.

“Hey,” Yoosung said softly, jarring Saeyoung out of his tiny existential crisis. This little blond angel looked up at him, blinking sleepily. “You okay?”

Saeyoung smiled and planted a kiss on the top of his head. “Couldn’t be better, hun. Go back to sleep.”

Yoosung rolled his eyes. “Seven—Saeyoung,” he said sternly, “I know that look on your face. You’re messing with me.” He straightened and cupped a hand around Saeyoung’s cheek, pushing him downward so that his head rested against Yoosung’s shoulder. “It’s a long way home,” Yoosung said quietly. “Rely on me a little more, won’t you?”

Saeyoung couldn’t help it. He lifted his head and stole a kiss from Yoosung’s lips. Before his angel of a boyfriend could react, Saeyoung let himself get comfortable leaning against that shoulder, leeching off of that warm body. _My personal sun in the rain_ , he thought happily. “Stay right here, Yoosung. Right here.”

“I’m not going anywhere, Saeyoung,” Yoosung said softly, letting his lips graze against the cusp of Saeyoung’s ear. “I’ll be here with you. Always.”

Saeyoung’s eyelids began to feel heavy. He used to dread letting them close completely, fearing the shadows of his past that flitted in and out of his sleep. But with Yoosung here, he didn’t have to worry about any of that. The darkness inside him just couldn’t stand the light and warmth that Yoosung held in his heart and radiated outward to everyone around him.

“Thank you,” he whispered. “I love you.”

“Me, too,” Yoosung murmured, gently stroking Saeyoung’s hair. “Good night, Saeyoung.”


	7. they're gonna top the charts someday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> requested by @yomo-fucker

 

Yoosung slammed the door open on the dressing room, making Seven jump. He stalked over and shoved his phone in Seven’s face.

“Do you see that?” he said angrily.

Seven squinted at the phone that was approximately 2 millimetres away from the lens of his glasses. He could make out a big white blur. “Uh. No. Am I supposed to be seeing something?”

Yoosung took his phone back. “It’s BTS! ‘Blood, Sweat, and Tears’ just hit thirty million views.”

“Oooh,” Seven nodded, going back to rearranging his bag. “Yeah. I know. I might have added, like, ten thousand views to that. L-O-L.” He swung his hips per letter he spelled.

“ _Why?_ ” Yoosung moaned.

“What do you mean, why?” Seven kept on arranging his things. Phone, check. Sunglasses, check. Face mask, check… “Are you that jealous?”

“Ye—No! But… they’re so _good_.” Yoosung flopped onto the sofa and held the phone above his face. “I don’t get it! How are they so good? I mean…” He sat up. “Even _I_ kind of screamed when Jin turned around and made that… that _face_.”

Seven chuckled. “One minute you sound like you’re hating on them, and then the next you’re gushing about them.” He tapped his chin thoughtfully. “Is this what the Japanese called ‘tsundere’ way back when?”

“They still call it that,” Yoosung muttered. “Anyway, I’m not a fan, okay? They’re a _rival band_.”

“So? I keep a lot of MX albums at home.”

“For research.”

“That, and I really like their music.” Seven nodded at the contents of his bag, satisfied. He zipped it closed and turned to Yoosung who looked pretty torn up over the realisation that he was actually an ARMY. “What’s wrong with being a fan of the enemy?”

“Uh,” Yoosung scoffed. “The fact that they’re the enemy?”

“Okay, let me rephrase that. What’s wrong with being a fan of a really good boy band? Just because we’re RFA doesn’t mean we can’t like BTS.” Seven sat down next to Yoosung. “Besides, V said it right? They’re _friends_. We’re gonna have _lunch with them on Saturday_.”

Yoosung winced. “Don’t remind me. Ugh. How am I supposed to act if Jin talks to me?”

Seven touched shoulders with him. “Jin’s your bias.”

“Yeah,” Yoosung said miserably.

“Give him your best fanboy smile.”

He punched Seven in the shoulder. “He’ll think I’m a creep.”

“Speaking of a bias,” Seven raised a finger, “what about your RFA bias?”

Yoosung narrowed his eyes at him. “Way to change the subject.”

“They don’t call me a boy genius lyricist for nothing.”

Yoosung rolled his eyes. “Do I _have_ to say it?” He was trying really hard, but the blush was spreading fast across his cheeks and it was so red, even his makeup couldn’t hide it. Seven knew without having to check that Yoosung’s ears and nape would be red too. Adorable. Really.

“If you don’t want to, you don’t have to.” Seven rested his head against Yoosung’s shoulder and wrapped an arm around his waist. “But you already know mine.”

“Saey—”

The door slammed open for the second time. “O-K. It’s time to stop with the flirting and start with the moving-out-to-the-studio.” Zen had his arms crossed across his chest. Beside him, glowering, was Vanderwood—their producer—and behind him was Jaehee—their manager. Rika, their marketing head was probably somewhere outside. The rest of the band members had already poured in.

“Really?” Jumin said, grimacing. “Here?”

“Give them a break, you all,” said V. He was smiling when he turned to Seven and Yoosung, neither of whom had budged an inch since they all barged in. “I know you might be upset that BTS did spectacularly. But being number two on the charts isn’t so bad.”

“Not to me!” Yoosung and Zen said at the same time. They exchanged nods.

“But,” V went on, “this only means we have to work harder, am I right?” He paused. “Or am I right?”

“Of course you’re right, V,” Jumin said. 

“Oi, pretty boys,” barked Vanderwood from the threshold. “We’re—how many minutes late, Jaehee?”

Jaehee glanced at her phone. “Three-point-five.”

“We’re _three-point-five_ minutes late!” Vanderwood snapped. “Let’s get a _move on_.”

The RFA members muttered assent and began to move out of the room. Seven stood up before Yoosung did. He held out his hand, grinning. “Shall we aim for forty million views this time?”

Yoosung laughed and took his hand. “We’ll get the whole world to go crazy for us.”

Seven pulled him up and into a kiss. “You know,” he said, “I have the feeling they already are.”


	8. you're never really ready

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> requested by anon

Yoosung had prepared himself for this day. Mentally, physically, spiritually. He had it all: casual _looking-good-but-not-_ too- _good-that-you’ll-think-something-is-off_ outfit, several index cards’ worth of pick-up lines and suave transitions memorised in his head, a thick wallet, a planned proposal plus run-down of events to be had… What could go wrong, right?

_Everything_ , he thought as he fidgeted outside Seven’s door. _Everything could go wrong._

Seven was unpredictable as a friend and even more so as a boyfriend. Yoosung never really knew what Seven—no, Saeyoung—was thinking. Ever since Saeran had come back, everything had become so… unstable. Saeyoung would suddenly call Yoosung in the middle of the night, sounding so fragile, but the next day, he’d be joking around like the usual. Yoosung hadn’t been able to get Saeyoung alone in ages, and he could tell from his lover’s eyes that the man was constantly on edge. Yoosung would do anything— _anything_ —to keep him from falling down that edge.

The familiar, disembodied voice of Seven’s security prompted Yoosung to say “monkeys eat oranges” in Arabic. Yoosung rolled his eyes and brought out his phone to tell his boyfriend via the RFA chatroom that he was there. There was a pause before the complex lock on the door clicked open with a loud beep. Yoosung sucked in a deep breath before coming in.

Surprisingly, Saeran was the one who met him at the entryway. He looked as unperturbed as he always did, and not in the way V—ouch, that hurt to think about—used to look. It was like a false kind of calm. Not exactly the calm before the storm, but like a thin layer of something that masked a riot of emotions within. 

“He’s in his bedroom,” Saeran said coolly, looking at Yoosung but also _not_ at Yoosung. Not looking at anything in particular.

“Thanks,” said Yoosung. He hesitated, then caught Saeran by the wrist. “Hey.”

Saeran raised both eyebrows. He was looking at Yoosung now. Really looking. “What do you want?”

“I’m—” he stammered. “I’m going to ask him out.”

“And why are you telling me that?”

“Because I want you to know.” He paused again. “I want you to come with us.”

Saeran sneered at him, but there had been the faintest flash of… something… behind those eyes. “Why should I have to suffer being the third wheel?” He snatched his wrist away. “Go and screw your brains out for all I care.”

“Saeran!” Yoosung caught up to him before he could hole himself up in the guest room. He stuck his shoe in between the door and the threshold. “I know it’s hard, but Saeyoung is trying too, okay?” He tried to meet Saeran’s eyes. “He’s trying really hard. And he loves you.”

“What does that matter to _you_?” Saeran spat. 

“It matters to me because I love him,” said Yoosung quietly. “I decided to be his family a long time ago, when we first started going out. That makes you my family too. _That_ ’s why it matters to me. _That_ ’s why I care.”

Saeran seemed to hesitate, but before Yoosung could go on, he felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked up in surprise. “Saeyoung.”

Saeyoung was smiling and it was such a warm, warm smile. Yoosung felt like he’d fallen in love all over again. “Saeran,” Saeyoung said, “we’ll be going to the zoo, you know? And a park. And a museum. And tons of other fun places.”

“I’m not going,” Saeran said stubbornly. 

“Hmm. Well, yeah, you could stay here and watch weird horror flicks with Vanderwood.” Saeran visibly flinched at that. “Or you could come with us and have one helluva great time.”

“And watch you two make out in public? No thanks.”

“We’ll try to tone it down,” Saeyoung laughed as Yoosung blushed. The door was half-open now.

“I’ll…” Saeran cast his eyes down at his feet. “I’ll think about it.”

“You will?” Saeyoung nearly pounced on his brother, but Saeran had pushed the door closed. “We’ll leave in ten!” he called to his moody twin.

“I said I’ll think about it!”

Yoosung felt Saeyoung take his hand and lead him to the living room. He felt equal parts nervous and relieved. Half of his plan had gone alright, at least. But he still couldn’t really believe that Saeyoung had actually beaten him to the punch.

“I… was thinking of a better way to ask you,” Saeyoung said, scratching his head. “But nothing ever felt right. I kept making plans. Looking up places on the Internet. Practicing conversations. All that.” He shook his head, grinning. He held Yoosung’s face in his hands. “You’re genius. My adorable, precious little genius.”

Yoosung flushed. “I didn’t do anything,” he muttered, shuffling his feet. Then he realized. “Wait, you were _planning to ask me out_?”

“Of course I was!” Saeyoung looked almost insulted. “We haven’t gone on a date in _months_. I felt like I was shutting you out, and I really was. It’s been really hard figuring everything out, but I would never ever forget how much you—”

Yoosung threw his arms around Saeyoung’s neck and their lips met in a happy, fervent kiss. “Don’t think about it too much,” said Yoosung when they broke apart. He beamed. “I’m here for you and Saeran. I want you both to be happy.”

Saeyoung rested his chin on the top of Yoosung’s head. “I’m happy just with you being here. And Saeran doesn’t say anything about it, but he’s happy too.”

Yoosung tilted his head up a little. “You think so?”

“I know so.”

“Let’s give him the best day out ever,” Yoosung said brightly. 

Saeyoung kissed him and squeezed him in a tight hug. “Let’s.”


	9. kicked out of the server

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> requested by anon

It had only been thirty minutes in but Yoosung was already flying off the handle. “You’re cheating!” he was screeching through Seven’s headphones. “That was _so_ not allowed! Where did you even _get_ that?”

“What, this?” he snickers as he blasts through the army of trolls singlehandedly. He can see Yoosung’s avatar standing there and he can imagine the look of mixed awe and irritation on Yoosung’s face. “Just a little lucky loot drop from this month’s event tourney.”

“You got that from a _loot drop?_ ” Yoosung sounds so dismayed, it might’ve broken Seven’s heart if he hadn’t been so amused. “Dragonmail is _impossible_ to get from those. You have to buy it with real money. Or forge it. And that takes _months_.”

“Or you could be awesome, like me,” says Seven. Yoosung sighs loudly.

“Now I don’t feel like playing with you anymore.”

“Aw, why not?”

“Because you’re cheating.”

“I’m not number one for nothing, though!”

“I’m logging out.”

“Huh? Noooo,” Seven whines. “Don’t go! Don’t leave me all alone in this desolate wilderness!”

“You’re a level 99 mage. With _dragonmail,_ ” Yoosung snorts. “You’ll be fine.”

“But it’s dark. And cold. And lonely. Please don’t be mad.”

“I’m not mad.”

“You are.”

“Am not!”

“You’re scowling, aren’t you? You’ll get frown lines. You won’t be cute anymore.”

“I’m logging out.”

“Wait, wait, wait, hear me out.” Seven clasps his hands together. “I fight better when I’m _with_ you. I feel like I’m invincible when you’re next to me. Nobody else can do that, except you.”

Yoosung pauses, but just as Seven thinks he’s got him, he logs out and his avatar vanishes from view.

“ _Noooo!_ My comrade, my partner, my irreplaceable friend!” Seven wails and covers his face dramatically. “Why did you leave me all alone!”

“You’ve been talking like we aren’t in the same room, sitting next to each other.”

Seven pulls his headphones down and pouts at Yoosung, who’s leaning heavily against his shoulder. He’s closed his laptop and taken off his headset. “Is play time over?”

Yoosung nods.

“You’re not… really mad, are you?” Seven asks timidly.

“What? No, of course not.” Yoosung elbows him lightly. “It’s just… we don’t _always_ have to play LOLOL when we’re together… i-is what I’m trying to say,” he adds quickly. He blushes and elbows Seven harder out of embarrassment. “A—And it’s also… I know I can rage a little when I get to into it. I caught myself shouting at you, and I thought… wow, that’s really shitty of me. As a—a boyfriend. You know?”

Seven is speechless. He doesn’t know what to do. Or rather, there are so many things he wants to do—hug him, kiss him, sweep him off his feet, tell him everything he loves about him, hold him tight—that he can’t decide on just one thing. he puts his laptop down and takes off his headphones. He takes Yoosung’s hand and brings it to his lips.

“You could rage quit on me and I’d still love you anyway,” Seven says quietly. “But if you want to do something other than play games…” He leans in close, and whispers into Yoosung’s ear. “I’d be more than happy to oblige.”

Yoosung’s literal knee-jerk reaction makes Seven unconsciously put both hands on his knee. 

“Please don’t knee me in the balls again.”

“You make it _really_ hard for me not to.” Yoosung crosses his arms. “Honestly, if this really was a date, we’d be watching a movie. Or eating ice cream. Outside.”

“Psh. The outside is overrated.”

“We’re going out,” Yoosung called out in the direction of the hallway.

Vanderwood’s voice echoes back to them. “I know.”

“No we’re going _out_.”

“Clean up before you leave.”

“Okay.” Yoosung gets on his feet. “Seven, we’re going out.”

Seven latches on to his leg. “No! I want to stay inside!”

“Out.”

“What’s wrong with staying here?”

“Nothing.”

“Then why—”

“Because I want to go out on a date with you!” Yoosung snaps. He stops. “I’m sorry—I got mad—I—” He drops to sit on his heels as Seven sits up.

“It’s okay,” says Seven cheerily.

“It’s not okay!” Yoosung looks so angry with himself that Seven wraps his arms around him.

“It’s okay. I told you. I’ll still love you even if you get mad at me or give up on me. Always.”

Yoosung sniffs. “You’re too good to me.” He hugs Seven back. “I’m really sorry.”

“You can make up for it by buying me ice cream,” Seven says as he wipes Yoosung’s tears away and kisses his forehead. “Okay?”

Yoosung leans into his chest. “Okay,” he says. “Thank you. I love you.”

“I—”

“Are you two leaving or what?” Vanderwood yells from down the corridor. “Because I’m not budging from this room until I can’t hear your sappy whimpering!”

They both exchange wide-eyed looks and jump to their feet.

“We’re leaving right now!” Yoosung hollers as he hastily pulls on a jacket and almost trips in his socks trying to scramble out of the room.

“Keep the spies out, Mary!” Seven shouts as he ushers Yoosung out the door.

“Fuck you!” she spits.

They run out of the house laughing their heads off.


End file.
